The Blue Umbrella
by thedoctorlek
Summary: Based off Pixar's short film of the same name. An AU oneshot. The Doctor's on his way for a meeting, when it starts to rain and he meets a woman on the side of the street.


**After seeing the short film in front of Monsters University– The Blue Umbrella– I was inspired to write an AU oneshot about it. Enjoy! (And review? if it strikes your fancy? I love reviews?)**

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_Pitter patter. Pitter patter._

Rain begins to fall over the city, a soft thrumming that overtakes his senses. It's almost like music, this noise– the creaks of metal gratings and drainpipes, the soft whisper of water falling. It makes a sort of rhythm, a beat to go with the monotony that usually makes up his day. He looses himself in the calming noise, breathing in the rain-scented air through his nose.

When the rain begins to fall down harder, the Doctor pulls out his umbrella. He's glad he brought it along on his way to this meeting– his always-impressive hair looks best dry, in his opinion. The umbrella makes a soft sound as it opens, as do multiple other umbrellas around him. Most are grey and black and charcoal colored, but his stands out in the crowd– it's a bright blue in the mass of the dull and mute.

He's always liked this umbrella– made by an old company, long gone out of business, TARDIS Incorporated– and as he walks along sidewalk, bumping into the occasional man and woman, it does its job well, shielding him from the rain. Even when a splash of water rains down on him, none of the wet touches him.

He makes his way along the street quickly– he's got an important business meeting to attend and he _can't_ be late– however, he's forced to stop at a light when the traffic crossing goes red.

Shifting impatiently from one foot to the other, he looks around. People are congregating around the edge of the sidewalk, pressing in, and the Doctor suddenly finds himself very, extremely close to a young woman.

To say that she was beautiful would be an understatement, in his mind. Her blonde hair is tied back in a ponytail and she's wearing a light red coat that matches her umbrella. Her eyes– brown, he notes– are trained at the ground, but she must feel his gaze, somehow, for she looks up at him, a startled expression on her face.

He gives her a brief smile, raising his hand from his handle and sketching a half wave. Her lips curve up, her eyes dancing, and she waves back at him– despite their two feet of separation.

He opens his mouth to say something, but just then a large gust of wind blows through the street, and the Doctor's umbrella is abruptly pulled inside out, tugging him forward at the same time. He gasps in shock, trying to bend it back to shape. Rain briefly splatters across his upturned face, but then he's got his umbrella under control– and with a sharp motion, right side out too. Heat floods his face as he realizes how silly he must've looked– wrestling with a bloody umbrella– and he doesn't look at the woman next to him.

The sound of her light laughter makes him glance at her, though. She's smiling, her tongue poking out between her teeth, her eyes bright. He finds himself grinning– a real grin– in response. Blimey. He hasn't done that in quite a while. He wants to say something, something clever and funny, something that will make her smile broaden– but just then, the light changes and its time to move on, time to cross the street and get in the tube and go to his meeting.

He doesn't look back at her, as he crosses the street, and they part in separate directions.

Something must be working against him, though, as he walks toward the subway entrance. The wind is coming straight at him, his converse get soaked in a large puddle that he tries and fails to avoid, and his umbrella seems to be wanting to take him back to where he came from. Growling, he yanks it against the wind, but just as he reaches the tube entrance, it _flies_ out of his hand– born aloft by a sudden gust of wind.

"Dammit!" he shouts. That umbrella is a family heirloom– rather special to him– and he doesn't want to loose it. He looks wildly from the subway entrance to the direction the umbrella took off in, trying desperately to decide. "Oh, sod it all," he mutters, and races into the cold and wet and icky weather, after his handcrafted TARDIS umbrella.

His feet take him quicker than he thought he could go– racing in the direction his possession floated off– scanning the crowd and street and city. He rounds a corner, goes down a block and– _there! _He sees a bright speck of blue, being born across the street on another gust of air– he swallows, crossing his fingers that it won't land in the road and get run over. It's going to the opposite side of the street that he's on and there's nothing the Doctor can do to stop it.

He swallows again, pushing a wet lock of hair out of his eyes. He's soaked to the bone, late for his meeting, and completely confused as to what street he's on. He stares at his umbrella, not wanting to loose sight of it. It seems that nature is working in favor for him today– jets of water, slight breezes, and the city's mechanisms somehow push it across the street, closer and closer to the opposite sidewalk.

Racing to the nearest crosswalk, he somehow gets across the road in less than a minute– just in time to see the blue umbrella fly through the air and get broadsided by a bus.

"No!" he gasps out, running forward, pushing through the crowd of people. It's a bit silly, that he's worried over such a silly thing, but he doesn't care. He hurries to where it landed and kneels down, examining the damage. He breathes out a sigh of relief. It's not too badly hurt– battered and bent, to be sure, but not beyond repair.

Suddenly, he realizes that he's not being rained on anymore, and he looks up, surprised. At first, all he can see is the bright red of an umbrella, and then he recognizes the owner. The woman from the crosswalk.

"Hu-hullo," he stammers out, still crouched on his haunches. Hesitantly, he raises his own umbrella up, so that it's covering all of him.

"I recognized your umbrella," she says, grinning. Then holds out a hand, to help him up. "Rose Tyler."

"Dr. John Smith," he replies. "But everyone calls me the Doctor."

Her grin goes wider. "Pleasure."

"It's all mine," he says, and wipes his wet hair out of his face again. "Blimey. I must look a sight."

She doesn't contradict him, just looks at him somewhat sympathetically. "Do you have somewhere you need t' be?"

He nods. "Bloody business meeting. But I... I can't go now, can I? Soaked, late, dirty." He flicks a bit of mud off his shoes and trousers. Then purses his lips. "Still! Not like they'll fire me. Genius, I am. And I'm there every other day, all hours. Not exactly expendable, eh?" He winks.

"Not exactly modest, either," she says, teasing.

"Just stating the facts."

"You think you're so impressive."

"I _am_ so impressive," he replies, loving this easy banter that's flowing between them. "Now, Rose Tyler, I believe I'm making _you_ late for wherever you're headed."

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere," she answers, twirling her umbrella handle in her fingers. "Just to a cafe, two blocks down."

There's a pause between them, slightly awkward, but mostly just heavy, as if they're both waiting for something. Then the Doctor decides that yes, he _will_ say it.

"Can I join you?" He shoves his hands in his wet pockets, nervous. "Won't be much of a bother, me, and I–"

She lays a hand on his arm. "I'd love it if you joined me," she says softly, and then they're both grinning like idiots and he's holding his arm out to her.

He may not have ended up where he intended, today, but he reckons that this will work out even better than his previous plans.


End file.
